Nothing Left to Lose
by emerald-soco
Summary: Haley runs out on Nathan hours before their wedding. Brooke convinces him to go after her - and of course, she goes along for the ride. Brathan, picks up after S1 finale, R&R!
1. Undeniable

-1-- Picks up at the end of the S1 finale. Only difference is, the scene where Haley tells Luke she married Nathan never happened. Enjoy!

**Undeniable**

_In an unreliable world, you shine like a star._

"Let's do something great today," Brooke proposed.

Peyton laughed, well used to Brooke's grandiose ideas and the consequences they brought with them. "What do you have in mind?"

"I don't know." Brooke shrugged, then stretched her arms overhead, breathing in deeply. "I just want to do something ... different. Oh, I know! Let's go on vacation. A cruise. How fun would that be?"

"How _unrealistic_ would that be?" Peyton countered, rolling herself off the bed and onto her feet. Of the two of them, she was always the more level-headed. "Not all of us have a trust fund to fall back on, Brookie."

Brooke pouted, a look that had lost any and all effect on Peyton somewhere around the seventh grade. "Boo, you whore," she shot back cheerlessly, then brightened again almost instantly. "How 'bout the beach? Can we go to the beach?"

"Now you're talking," Peyton approved. "I could definitely go for a nice, relaxing day at the beach."

"Relaxing being the key word," Brooke agreed, although both of them knew that she was too full of energy to ever be truly relaxed. "This year was too dramatic, even for me."

"Thank God things are finally getting back to normal." It was a relative term for those who lived in Tree Hill, but still. Peyton was relieved that no lasting damage had been done to her friendship with Brooke, that Jake had managed to slip past Nikki, that even Lucas and Nathan seemed to be on good terms. "I wish the guys could have won last night's game, though."

"That would've been a perfect ending," Brooke murmured, already more involved in her reflection than their conversation. "Can I borrow that red bikini I gave you for your birthday last year?"

Peyton rummaged for the swimsuit in question. "Isn't that why you gave it to me in the first place?"

Brooke flashed a smile. "You know me too well, P. Sawyer."

The girls got ready quickly, not wanting to waste a minute of the gorgeous weather. To some, it would hardly seem like a bonding activity - Peyton would undoubtedly slip on her headphones the moment she got settled on the sand and Brooke would lose herself in a glossy magazine for the rest of the afternoon. But it was nice, Brooke reflected, simply to have the company again. She had missed her best friend.

"Ready?"

With one last glance in the mirror - perfection, Brooke knew, took a lot of work - she tossed her hair back and slid her sunglasses on. "Let's do this."

They made it all the way to the front door of Peyton's house before their truce and the lazy, carefree day they'd been planning was threatened. Taped to the door was a letter addressed to both of them, their names scrawled in handwriting they couldn't help but recognize.

"Lucas," Brooke said, trying to ignore the hurt that flared up in the face of her open wound.

Peyton stared at the envelope, looking uneasy. "What do you think it says?"

"Only one way to find out." Brooke squared her shoulders and tore the letter open, her eyes skimming quickly down the page. "He's leaving. He went to Charleston with Keith. He's sorry - well, he should be - and ... he hopes we can forgive him and each other."

"Wow." Oddly nervous, Peyton raised her blue eyes to Brooke's hazel ones, unsure of how to proceed. "So ... what do we do now?"

Brooke spared the letter one last glance, then folded it twice and slipped it into her pocket. "We have our nice relaxing day at the beach. And tonight, we'll have a bonfire - with _this _as kindling."

"Brooke," Peyton protested. It didn't seem right to turn Lucas' heartfelt goodbye into confetti without so much as a second thought.

"What?" Brooke challenged. "We're okay, Peyton. Me and you. And with Lucas gone, things can only get better, right? At least we know where we stand."

She hesitated, but only for a moment. "I guess you're right."

"I always am," Brooke confirmed, holding up a fist for her friend to bump. "Hoes over bros?"

"Hoes over bros," Peyton repeated, and tried to put the blonde boy out of her mind as they made their way to the beach.

XXX

Nathan started to change his direction so as to avoid the bonfire he saw glimmering in the distance, but the screech of laughter that drifted over the sound of the crashing waves was familiar enough to stop him in his tracks.

He shuffled closer, dragging his feet through the sand until he could make out the two figures dancing around the flames. "Peyton?" he called out, a little incredulous at the sight of his old girlfriend leaping and giggling foolishly. Her counterpart was less of a surprise. "Brooke? What are you two _doing_?"

"Celebrating," Brooke called out, breathless with laughter. "Wanna join?"

"Not really," he replied, but he stepped a foot closer. "What are you celebrating, exactly?"

"Freedom!" Again, it was Brooke who answered, bringing herself to a stop directly in front of him. In the dark, her eyes sparkled enough to make the stars seem like cheap fluorescent bulbs. Unprompted, she elaborated. "Freedom from men - or boys, more like it. Boys who have no idea what they want and don't have the balls to just say so."

"Oh," was Nathan's response, as if that had explained everything. He glanced at Peyton, by far the more rational one. "I'm assuming this has something to do with Luke leaving?"

"It's an ... exorcism, of sorts," she explained. Her sheepish shrug told the rest of the story - it had been Brooke's idea and she was going along with it because the alternative involved a lot more whining. "We'll miss him, of course. But ..."

"We're glad to be rid of the pig," Brooke declared, grabbing Nathan's hand and twirling gracefully under his arm. "And what are you doing here anyway, mister? Shouldn't you be with Tutor Girl? I was under the impression you guys are attached at the hip."

"We _were_," he said mournfully. Leave it to Brooke to instinctively hone in on the heart of the matter. It was as if she had a sixth sense that told her every time somebody was withholding news-worthy gossip. "She's kind of ... gone, too."

Brooke's mouth dropped open. "You mean she went with Lucas?"

"No." He paused. "I don't think so, anyway. Her note didn't say much."

Brooke shared a disbelieving look with Peyton. "What _is_ it with these people and Dear John letters?"

Nathan frowned. "Huh?"

"Lucas left us a note, too," Peyton stepped in to explain. "A sort of goodbye-slash-apology note."

His mind flashed back to the letter he'd found after losing the game the night before. It had been wedged into his locker, half in and half out, already a metaphor for how Haley felt about their relationship. _Nathan_, she had written, _I'm sorry to leave so suddenly, but I'm not sure I'm ready to take such a big step - with you or anyone else. I love you, but I need to take some time away and figure things out. See you soon._

"Yeah," he said finally, bringing himself back to the present. "Mine, too."

Peyton gazed sympathetically at him. Brooke, on the other hand, nodded as if she hadn't been expecting anything less. "Do you have it with you?"

"Brooke," Peyton hissed, appalled at her friend's lack of tact. "I'm sure it's personal."

"I don't want to _read_ it." Brooke rolled her eyes - like she cared what big SAT words Haley had used to break Nathan's heart. "I thought he might want to add it to the fire. We used ours for kindling," she added, for Nathan's benefit. "Very effective. And cleansing."

Nathan guffawed, unsure if he should be amused or appalled. "I think I'll pass. I'm just gonna ... head home, I guess. I want to be there if Haley calls."

They watched him trudge away, his shoulders slumped so as to make him almost unrecognizable. When she was sure he was out of earshot, Brooke blew out a breath. "God, being left behind really sucks."

Peyton nodded, slinging an arm around her shorter friend. "You said it, sister. At least we've got each other."

This time when they bumped fists, it was Brooke whose mind lingered on a boy with serious eyes and his back turned towards them.


	2. Crashing Down

**Crashing Down**

_You say, everything is different,_

_Why don't we just hold on?_

Nathan made the downward spiral from denial to anger with remarkable speed. With little regard to the two week mourning period customary in such romantic complications, he'd segued straight into destroying every trace of Haley in his life and getting morosely drunk at three in the afternoon.

That was the scene Brooke walked in on the next day. To her own great surprise, she had woken up thinking not of Lucas and his stupid farewell letter, but of Nathan and the sadness that had been in his eyes when he found them at the beach. She'd thought - apparently rightfully - that someone should check in on him.

With her hands on her hips as she survey the damage he'd done to his apartment so far, she shook her head and declared, "You are _such _a cliché right now."

"What do you want, Brooke?" he replied through gritted teeth. His knuckles were raw and stinging (he'd punched the wall two minutes before she let herself in) and there was a similar sensation pricking at the backs of his eyes. 

"Oh, the usual," she answered brightly. "World peace, a rich doctor proposing to me ... oh, and for you to not do this whole pathetic-brokenhearted-boyfriend thing. It's so overplayed."

"Oh, I'm sorry." His laugh sounded sharp; a thousand tiny shards of broken glass hitting the floor. "Am I not handling the fact that my girlfriend just _left_ me well enough for you?"

"Nathan." Sighing, she brought her hand up to rest on his shoulder, feeling the tension that simmered there. "Don't be like this. She's going to come back."

He shot her a dark look. "How do you know?"

"Couples fight _all_ the time," Brooke emphasized, working to not show her impatience. Hello, Lucas had up and left her without a word and was she crying about it? "Haley probably just got freaked out and needed some time alone. I mean, it's not like she's got tons of experience, you know? And you guys have gotten close pretty fast."

Nathan sighed and pulled away from her, striding across the living room to look out the window. As if Haley might be pulling into the driveway at any moment, an apology on her lips and her ring back on her finger. "We were going to get married," he said.

Brooke gaped. "Excuse me?"

"After the game," he confirmed. "We wanted to be together and we thought - we thought that was the solution. Or at least, _I_ thought so. Apparently, Haley wasn't so sure."

Either Brooke was suffering from a mild mental breakdown after the stress of her own quasi-boyfriend ditching her, or Nathan was completely serious. She sat herself down heavily on the couch. "Are you kidding me?"

He chuckled ruefully. "I wish. She just ... took off. I found the letter in my locker after the game. Said she wasn't sure she was ready to make such a big commitment."

"Stop, hold on a minute," she interrupted. "Just ... let me process this. My brain might actually explode. You and Tutor Girl ... _engaged. _I can't even believe it."

"Not engaged." With another deep sigh, he let himself fall into place beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. "Not until she comes back, anyway."

An idea was forming in the back of Brooke's head. Just yesterday, she'd told Peyton she wanted to do something great with her time this summer. What bigger adventure could there be than helping two friends find their way back to each other? "You mean," she said slowly, "Not until you talk to her about all this."

"Which would require her coming back," Nathan repeated.

"_Or _you finding her." He straightened up for the sole purpose of staring incredulously at her. She raised her eyebrows at him. "What? Why is that such a crazy idea?"

He scoffed. "Uh, let's see. One, because I don't know where she is. And two, because she left without saying good-bye, which leads me to believe she doesn't _want_ me to know where she is."

"Nathan." She rolled her eyes. Were all men really so dense? "First of all, it's not like Haley has an extensive list of hideouts. It'll be pretty easy to track her down. And second, she got nervous. It's understandable. All she needs is for you to find her and convince her that it's going to be fine. I'll help you."

Nathan eyed her suspiciously. "Why do you care so much, anyway?"

Brooke shrugged. "Haley's good for you. She turned you from this total jackass jock - no offense - into a tolerable person. I'd like to see what she can do with a couple more years." She patted his knee and stood up, the matter settled in her mind. "What have you got to -"

"If you ask what I've got to lose, I might have to ignore the fact that you're a girl and just deck you," he interrupted dryly.

She laughed over her shoulder. "I was _gonna_ say, what've you got to eat around here? I'm starving."

XXX

The next day, she showed up again, this time with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. As usual, she let herself in. "Nate?" she called, letting the door slam behind her. "You ready?"

He stumbled out of the bedroom in nothing but sweatpants, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "What the _hell_ are you doing here so early in the morning?"

"I thought we should get a headstart to beat the traffic," she said innocently. "Have you even _packed_ yet?"

"Packed?" Nathan blinked. "Oh. Brooke, I didn't think you were _serious._ I'm not gonna go chasing after Haley like some lovesick puppy."

"Why not?" She looked genuinely confused. "Nate, this is like, the most romantic thing ever. I'd give anything for my boyfriend to come after me like this."

"_What _boyfriend?" he shot back, and immediately regretted it. Her face fell, eyes darkening to almost black. "Brooke, I'm so -"

"No." She shook her head, held up a hand. "It's true, isn't it? I don't have ... anyone. Maybe that's why I want to help you do this."

He didn't follow. "Why?"

"Because I'd like to - no." She broke off, sighed. "I need to believe these things can work out, okay? I mean, my parents, your parents, me and Lucas, him and Peyton ... everyone's always talking about happy endings, but I haven't seen one yet. And I think you and Haley have a chance and I just ... I want to help."

Nathan blew out a long breath and debated. On the one hand, he could stay in Tree Hill, alone and miserable, waiting for Haley to come back and explain what had gone wrong. Or he could jump in the car and actually _do_ something about it.

"Okay," he decided, clapping his hands. "Let's do this."

Brooke perked up. "Seriously? You want to?"

"Well, I kind of have to after that little speech," he laughed, not unkindly. "So if you can find out where Haley ran off to, then yes, I'll go there with you and try to bring her back."

"She's in Boston," Brooke supplied without missing a beat. "Staying with her older sister, Taylor."

He marveled at her. "How do you know _everything_ about everyone else?"

She shrugged. "A girl's gotta have a hobby."

Chuckling, he disappeared back into his room, reemerging seconds later with a t-shirt on. Brooke fought back disappointment - engaged or not, the boy had a great body. "Just give me a few minutes to pack," he requested, then paused. "Hey, Brooke?"

She glanced up from the TV Guide she'd started to flip through. "Yeah?"

Nathan hesitated. "Thanks for doing this."

Her smile was dazzling in its brightness. "Thanks for letting me."

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Author's Note: This is the only update for 2 weeks, since I'll be on vacation, but if a lot of people review, I'll post the following 2 chapters as soon as I get back. Incentive, people.


	3. Girl America

-1**Girl America**

_I know this love you're chasing._

Brooke was a backseat driver.

This, Nathan discovered very quickly. She directed turns like she was his own personal GPS system; narrated the colors of the traffic light like he was blind. If he waited too long to brake, she would squeal and brace herself against the dashboard, then reprimand him for having such poor reaction time.

But worse than all that, she was a radio hog.

"No." He slapped her hands away from the knobs for the hundredth time. "Mine."

"Come on," she protested, itching to change just one of his presets. "I can't _stand _anymore rap."

"We've only been on the road an hour," he argued, glancing into the rearview mirror as he prepared to change lanes.

She twisted in her seat to check for cars. "Don't go yet. And shouldn't we be switching off or something? You know - okay, it's clear, go - an hour with your stupid gangster music, an hour of my choice?"

Nathan scoffed. "Your choice? Which would be, what, Britney Spears? No, thanks."

"Hm, I was thinking more Hannah Montana," Brooke sneered, then rolled her eyes. "Just because I'm a cheerleader with great fashion sense doesn't mean I automatically like bubblegum pop, Nathan. I'll have you know, there's plenty more music I enjoy."

"Like what?" he challenged.

"Ryan Adams, Jack Johnson, Colbie Caillat, Ben Gibbard." She ticked them off on her fingers, skipping around so that she could linger on the middle one.

"Classy," he laughed, taking one hand off the wheel to close his palm over hers. "And I've never heard of any of those people. How can I be sure you're not just making them up?"

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. "Just because they don't rhyme "ho" with "fo' sho'" doesn't mean I made them up, Nathan. And both hands on the wheel, please."

"Fine," he relented, resisting the urge to steer with his knees just to piss her off. "You can control the radio for exactly one hour. On one condition - you stop telling me how to drive."

"I'm not -" One disbelieving look from him had her shutting her mouth. "Okay, I am. And I'll stop. Just, please, no more Soulja Boy."

She found a station that played more mellow music, a nice blend of surfer-stoner-soulful songs, and damned if Nathan didn't find himself humming along by the end of her allotted hour.

XXX

"Oh, my God, this traffic _sucks_," Brooke moaned, leaning sideways in her seat to rest her head on the windowpane. It had been anther two hours and it felt like they'd only gone that many miles. "I could _walk _faster."

Nathan's patience was wearing thin as well. "Go 'head," he invited, gesturing to the shoulder of the road. "I'll meet you in Boston."

She stuck her tongue out in response.

"Mature," he told her, trying to turn his chuckle into a cough so as not to encourage her. "And attractive."

Wanting to take advantage of his good mood while it lasted, Brooke straightened up, putting on her best pout. "Can't we get off the highway? Just for a little bit?"

Now, he laughed. "Aren't you the one who pushed me into making this little pilgrimage?"

"And I still fully support it," she was quick to promise. "I just didn't think it'd be so _boring_ getting there. Come on. Let's take a break, refuel, maybe eat something. By the time we get back on track, maybe we'll actually be able to move faster than the turtle that keeps passing us."

He was convinced not by her pout, but by the mention of food. "Okay," he decided, flicking his blinker on to move into the exit lane. "I guess we're not really getting anywhere, anyway."

XXX

"Stop!"

Heart in his throat, Nathan slammed on the brakes and glanced wildly around for whatever small animal or child Brooke had seen that he hadn't. "What? What is it?"

"Turn right," she directed, eyes focused on something in the distance. "Come on, Nathan, turn right - come on, right _here_."

He did so, grumbling the whole time. "Did we not _discuss_ the backseat driving thing? Unless I'm about to run over your grandmother, you are no longer allowed to say a word."

"Okay, now park here," Brooke instructed, clearly not listening to his lecture.

"What is your _deal_?" he wondered aloud, pulling into the space she'd indicated. "Seriously, Brooke, you nearly gave me a heart attack, yelling like that."

Finally, he had her attention. "I know, I know. Sorry. No more backseat driving. But look!" Thrilled with their luck, she grabbed his hand. "Starbucks."

He followed her line of vision to the familiar green and white awning. "Coffee. You almost killed me for coffee." Sighing, Nathan shook his head. "Brooke, there was coffee at the gas station. _And_ the diner."

"Coffee, but not Starbucks," she argued, already scrambling her way out of the car. "Oh, man, a mocha latte with double espresso, I can't _wait_. Come on."

Nathan couldn't believe the turn his life had suddenly taken. Two nights ago, he'd been hours away from getting married. Now, he was being dragged along the Eastern seaboard by Brooke; following her every direction without question.

In fact, it was kind of strange how easily she'd slipped into control of his life. He may have been the one behind the wheel, but he certainly wasn't steering.

"Nathan." Brooke, realizing he wasn't behind her, put one hand on her hip as she waited. "What's the hold up?"

He lifted his arms, then let them fall to his sides, at a loss for words. "How did I let you talk me into this?"

"Into what?" She glanced at the Starbucks behind her, then back at him. "Nate, it's just coffee, it'll take two minutes. I'm gonna get it to go."

"This isn't about _Starbucks_," he said in exasperation. "It's this whole insane _thing_. Why do I have to put myself on the line and go after Haley? Why can't I just turn around and go back to Tree Hill and wait for her to come home?"

"Because she might _not_!" Brooke burst out.

Stunned, Nathan took a step back. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not - I'm not saying she doesn't love you," Brooke hurried on. "I wouldn't have talked you into this if I thought she didn't. But I _know_, Nathan, and I wish I didn't, but I know that sometimes people don't come back. Sometimes people just get too damn scared of how much love can hurt. And I don't want that to happen to you and Haley."

"Brooke, I ..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say. He'd never seen Brooke so visibly upset. "I didn't mean to ..."

"It's fine," she cut in. Pushing her hair back, she took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Really. I'm sorry for yelling. And we can go home, if you want. I just ... the guy I loved left me and I can't do anything about it. And I didn't want that to happen to you, too."

Nathan stared. "Why not?"

The corners of her mouth lifted a fraction. "Because you're my friend."

It was stupid to be so touched. She had yanked him out of a peaceful pity session and dragged him onto a traffic-congested highway on a quest to quite possibly humiliate himself in front of the only girl he'd ever loved, who had chosen to leave him in the dust only days ago. She could actually be setting him up for the biggest disappointment of his life. But the way she said they were friends, like he was silly to even question it, made the corners of his mouth turn upwards, too.

"Okay," he accepted, closing the distance between them and sliding one arm around her shoulders. "Okay, friend, let's go get you some coffee, huh? But maybe not _double_ espresso. You seem a little on edge."

Laughing, she nodded and allowed herself to be held close as they entered the store.


	4. In the Middle

-1**In the Middle**

_No parachutes or safety nets here_

_One foot in the water to face these fears_

"Ah." Brooke sipped, a smile gracing her lips as the hot liquid passed down her throat. "Nectar of the gods."

"I don't know how you can drink that stuff." Nathan gulped down his own coffee - black, the way it was meant to be - and shook his head. "If you have to fill it with thirty other flavors, it's not really coffee."

"To each his own," Brooke shrugged, toasting him, and drank deeply to prove her point.

Nathan hid his smile behind his own mug. He was grateful to have Brooke acting normal again - her outburst outside of Starbucks had left both of them slightly shaken. Neither of them were used to Brooke being anything but in control - of herself and of everyone around her. To see the mask slip, however briefly, was disconcerting.

"Okay," he said, draining his drink and setting it aside. "We should have a plan, right? A route mapped out?"

"Sure, Grandpa." Brooke was contemplating the contents of her drink, twirling her spoon idly. "These highways sure are big and scary. Don't want to go the wrong way and end up in Mexico."

"Shut up," he laughed, and went to find a map in the coffee shop's lobby. He returned a few minutes later and spread it over the table, ignoring Brooke's protests as she hurried to move out of his way. "Okay. It's probably, what, a sixteen hour drive? That's two days, assuming I can drive eight hours straight."

"Yeah, too bad they have that pesky law against womenfolk driving." She snapped her fingers. "Damn."

"You're not driving my car, Brooke," he said firmly.

"Why not?" She sounded outraged, and he sent up a quick prayer that she wouldn't cause a scene. "I don't have a single ticket."

"That's because you've batted your eyelashes out of every single one of them," he pointed out. He'd ridden in Brooke's car when dating Peyton enough times to know that she viewed the speed limit, like every other rule in her life, as a mere suggestion. "No way. That car is my baby. You aren't laying a finger on it."

"Fine." She shrugged, like it didn't matter one way or the other to her, but added, "We'll see how you feel in six hours."

"I know you've got more experience with sitting on your ass than me, but trust me." He smirked. "I'll be fine. Now, let's just find a route so we can be on our way."

Brooke straightened up in her seat, gave the map a cursory glance, and then traced her nail along one of the several squiggly blue lines. "This is the shortest way. It's mostly a straight shot, though there's a detour through Delaware at one point. One of the highways is under construction. It'll be a good place to stop for the night. Other than that, it's smooth sailing."

Nathan stared. "You're making that up."

"I Googled roadmaps before we left." She met his gaze head-on. "I like to know where I'm going."

He chuckled at that, a little in awe of her. "Okay, then. Let's hit the road."

XXX

They had only just crossed into Virginia, Nathan bidding Tree Hill a mental farewell and Brooke letting her hand hang out the window in what could have been a good-bye wave, when it happened.

They'd made it this far without incident, an entire hour of steady driving on Nathan's part and Brooke seated beside him, legs crossed, head nodding to the music they'd finally agreed on. It was almost ... peaceful, Nathan decided, and it was just then that there was a loud bang.

"That doesn't sound very good," Brooke remarked, her casual tone at odds with the concern in her eyes.

"No, it doesn't," was his grim reply, and as they watched, clouds of steam began to rise up from the hood. He pulled to the shoulder off the road, sighed, and took his hands from the wheel to bury his face in his palms. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Brooke touched his shoulder. "I'll call a two truck," she offered. "Your baby will be up and running again in no time. This is just a minor setback, Nate."

He didn't look up, so his voice was muffled when he asked, "Why does everything I love keep running out on me?"

Brooke didn't have an answer for that.

XXX

"I'm going on a picnic," Brooke announced. "And I'm bringing Avon moisturizing cream, baseball cards, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - the Johnny Depp version, _not_ the original with the creepy old guy - drums, eyeliner, um ... um. Oh, damn. What'd you say for 'F'?"

"Fog machine," he reminded her.

She rolled her eyes. "Fog machine, Godiva chocolate, hamburgers _and_ hot dogs, and ... let's see. I. I, I, I. Oh! My Isaac Mizrahi jacket. Okay. Your turn."

He shot her a look of pure disbelief. "You're cheating."

"Am not!" she denied automatically, straightening her shoulders.

"Are, too," was his extremely mature retort. "I can't even pronounce whatever the hell it was you just said. Unfair advantage."

"Just because your level of sophistication is as stunted as -"

"Your height?" he supplied with a smirk. "Listen, game over, Davis. I've been patient so far, but this isn't a seventh grade slumber party."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said with feigned contriteness. "Did you have a better idea of how to pass the time while we're stuck in the middle of nowhere?"

"You know, if you're bored, you could always hitchhike back to Tree Hill," he suggested, only half-kidding. It had been three hours since Brooke had called AAA and there still wasn't a tow truck in sight. He was just about ready to give up on this ridiculous lovesick mission and go back home to lick his wounds.

Brooke merely rolled her eyes at him. "Don't get snippy with me, mister. Just because day one of the Nathan and Haley Reunion Tour didn't go well, doesn't mean all hope is lost."

"Didn't go well?" He chuckled harshly. "That's an understatement. We've barely gotten out of the state."

"It's a big state." She shrugged, unconcerned that their journey might take longer than originally planned. There wasn't very much waiting for her back in Tree Hill. "Besides, this will all be worth it when you see Haley and get things straightened out again."

He paused. How could Brooke sound so confident? _He_ had no idea what to expect from Haley, and he'd been in a relationship with her up until three days ago. With a sigh, Nathan shook his head. "You're probably right."

"I usually am," she murmured. She was quiet for a minute - probably some kind of record for her, he figured - and then she straightened up in her seat. "Nate, how did you know? That Haley was the one?"

Suddenly exhausted, Nathan let his head rest on the window, watching the other cars drive onward. Dusk was setting in, and the taillights of the passerby glowed red - like a warning, he thought, that he might not like what he found when he got where he was going. "I'm not sure," he replied. "I guess ... she made me want to be better. I've never cared before, what anyone else thought. But Haley mattered."

"Yeah." Brooke, too, was staring out her window, though she couldn't see past the thick line of trees that separated the highway from civilization. She wondered if Nathan realized he was speaking in the past tense. "That's kind of what I figured."

He wasn't normally one for heart-to-hearts, but it was kind of nice, talking to Brooke. Their exchanges were usually insults, good-natured or otherwise, or just Brooke chattering non-stop while he zoned out, but he didn't think they'd ever had a real conversation before. "Is that how you feel about Lucas?"

"Oh." She chuckled, but it ended in a sigh. "Lucas isn't the one for me. I think we all know that. But ... yes. He mattered."

"And you're just gonna give him up? Just like that?" He shook his head. "Man, Davis, I thought you had more guts than that. Kind of hypocritical, don't you think?"

She gave him a wry smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "You and Haley were on your way to the altar. Things never got that far for me and Luke."

"Yeah, well." He looked away again, focused on the miles of road that stretched out before them. "Feels like Haley and I will never get there, either."


End file.
